


swimming pool

by wobyl



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Budding Love, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Interspecies Awkwardness, M/M, Mentions of the DirkJake Schism, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24384709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wobyl/pseuds/wobyl
Summary: i am a creatureof a culture that i createi am the last one on the dance flooras the chandelier gives wayand i am permanentlypreoccupied with your pastbrian sella, ‘swimming pool’
Relationships: Dirk Strider/Equius Zahhak
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	1. dirk: submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known

— — arsenicCatnip [AC] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] — —  


AC: :33 < *ac bounds in, clearly intent on asking mew some purrtinent questions. she is serious business only*   
TT: *Dirk is doing some wicked cool shit right about now. He’s polishing a flaming katana while standing on a tightrope or some shit, dude’s not even phased, like damn. How’s he so high up like that?*  
TT: Oh shit. Didn’t see you there.  
AC: :33 < *ac is impurressed!!!! and also furry excited that her conversation purrtner is playing into her rolepurrlay for once because usually hes kinda boring to talk to*  
TT: Ouch.  
AC: :33 < SHUSH!! mew and i have impurrtant things to discuss *she furowns*  
AC: :33 < meow..... WHAT exactly are your intentions with my meowrail?  
TT: My what.  
AC: :33 < dont try to play koi with me mister!  
AC: :33 < and dont ask if that was a typo or not! its clearly a pun  
TT: Well now I have to.  
AC: :33 < purretty sure you dont!   
TT: But the question...  
TT: It beckons.  
AC: :33 < youre the worst!!  
TT: The purrst?  
AC: :33 < i know youre being furstrating on purrpose! mew arent gonna derail this interrogation  
TT: I would never.  
TT: But seriously, I have a question.  
AC: :33 < go fur it!  
TT: Was it a typo?  
AC: :33 < BLUH!!!

— — arsenicCatnip  [AC] ceased pestering timaeusTestified  [TT] — —

Well, shit. That‘s not good. 

— — timaeusTestified  [TT] began pestering tipsyGnostalgic  [TG] — —

TT: So it’s catgirl loyalty above all, huh?  
TG: it fuckign WJAT  
TG: WHAT*  
TT: Nepeta knows about my thing.  
TG: ur eq thing???  
TT: My Equius thing.  
TG: wznt me!!  
TG: altho i gotta say dirk ur not exactly th most discreet abt that  
TT: I what.  
TG: i dont think ive evr seen bigger puppyeyes on a guy whose eyes u cant even see tht well  
TG: srsly every time the two of u r in the same room u look like ur gonna faint  
TT: Shit. You don’t think anyone else knows, do you?  
TG: :(  
TT: What?  
TG: i dont like lyin to u :((  
TG: alas ur sparkling poker face does not apply 2 buff alien dudez  
TG: on the briteside i dont think hes noticed! dudes not exactly the most socially adept u feel me  
TG: plus i have it on good faith tht he thinks ur the coolest ;)  
TT: If that was a joke I’m never speaking to you again.  
TG: no fr!!!  
TG: rosie told me tht jade told her tht nep told HER tht he has a total red boner for u  
TG: but liek....... a blue one  
TG: yknow  
TT: Right.  
TT: I don’t know what the fuck to do with that information.  
TG: u gotta make a move dummie!!  
TG: it cant b that hard he sweats doubletime every time u talk to him  
TT: I’ll figure it out.   
TG: thts the spirit!!  
TG: im always here if u need advice ;)  
TG: except not rn bc jane n callie wanna watch a movie lmao  
TT: Go have fun. I’ll let you know if I come up with anything.   
TG: fuck yeah!  
TG: *BUNP*  
TT: *BUNP*  


— — timaeusTestified  [TT] ceased pestering tipsyGnostalgic  [TG] — —

———— 

Your name is Dirk Strider, and this is exactly the kind of problem you don’t have the capacity to solve. 

Generally speaking, you like to think you’re pretty socially capable. You have a friend group that has yet to actually fall apart, you’re as close to your goop siblings as a guy can be, you can interact with new people without making yourself look like an idiot. Trolls are different, but that’s not to say they’re harder to talk to, it’s just another variable in the equation. You’re as adjusted to the new world as anyone. 

That’s probably why Equius is so frustrating to you—you know you can carry a conversation just fine with every other friend you made during the game, so what the fuck is so different about him? If anything, _he_ should be the one stressing over how to woo _you_. 

Your thoughts immediately fall back to what Roxy said. For all you know, he finds you as impossible to talk to as you do him, and whether or not the idea of it gets you to bite your cheek to fend off a smile is no one’s goddamn business but your own. 

It’s just... after the game, Equius was always _there._ You had mutual friends, and everyone who got along made an effort to get together whenever it was convenient, and even though you’d never really spoken to him separate from Hal it was still part him in the kernel. You could never really get Nepeta to quit hovering long enough to talk to him without a well-meaning helicopter friend in the way, but it didn’t exactly take a genius to see why you two got along. 

The common interests you share would be a little weird if you weren’t so acutely aware that nothing’s really coincidence when it comes to who ended up playing. Plus, hey. You aren’t really one to look a gift hoofbeast in the mouth. 

Equius wanted an intellectual equal, you wanted someone to talk to who didn’t already have all of your idiosyncrasies databased, it worked out. You were—still are—eager to get out of the house and around other people. Being left alone with your thoughts has never exactly been a recipe for success, not since everything, and you get the sense that Equius was just happy to have someone to talk shop with. Even now it gets hard to be alone in your apartment. 

Your neighbors range from politely concerned about how little they seem to run into you to overbearingly chatty whenever they catch you outside. They mean well, probably, but a man can only make so much small talk before wanting to claw his own eyes out. It’s been almost a year since everything was plunged into benignity, since you got out of the fucking game, and it’s never gotten less unsettling to be around people who never have and never will experience anything you did. 

Maybe you’re a little lonelier than you give yourself credit for. 

It’s hard to talk about your problems when they all boil down to “people are nice to me and I’m incapable of accepting that.” Part of you envies your pseudosiblings—Dave and Rose have been in relationships essentially since you’ve known them, and Roxy somehow made it out with two girlfriends to show for it—and part of you wonders if it’s better that you’re alone. Your single attempt at a love connection didn’t exactly come up spades, after all. 

You wonder if Equius understands. Believe it or not, all the time you’ve spent together hunched over machine parts and debating soldering techniques hasn’t exactly inspired a lot of introspective conversation. 

Still, though. You respect Equius, admire him. The few times you’ve hung out without the backdrop of his garage have been genuinely nice and, apparently, he doesn’t disagree with the sentiment. If you’re going to do something about this, you could probably stand to do it soon. 

———— 

As it turns out, “do it soon” means “continue to tell yourself you have no emotional investment in your potential relationship only to be violently reminded of it months later.” Namely, Equius’ birthday is in a week, and you’re now saddled with finding a gift for someone you aren’t completely sure has a grasp on human social cues just yet. 

What you want is to encourage him. It’s not like you just stopped hanging out after you found out he might be into you, but he hasn’t made anything that could be perceived as a move in all the times you’ve been alone together. You want to believe that he’s just too polite and that he isn’t just completely uninterested, but despite all the time you spend impassively sneaking glances at his face behind your shades you still can’t get a read on him. 

You’re promptly alerted to the creation of a group memo entitled EQUIUS WRIGGLING DAY CELEBRATION, and it takes you all of twelve seconds to shut off notifications and put your phone right back down. Essentially everyone you know is immediately trying to get a word in about _something,_ and by the time the conversation seems to have ended and everyone has said their piece the log strains your eyes just to look at. Equius’ birthday is in a week and, seeing as Karkat delegated himself group event manager forever ago, he’s taken it upon himself to make sure everyone can play nice for a day and get together. You’re a little surprised to skim the chat and not see any cerulean until you check the member list and see the mute symbol by Vriska’s handle. You can bitch all you want about Vantas and his grouchiness, but no one can say he isn’t good at keeping the peace. 

As it stands, you have exactly a week to plot out some grand pitiable gesture to give Equius under the guise of friendly gift giving. This can’t be that hard, you’re friends now, you just need to find something good enough to make him want to pursue. Peak his interest. What are you both into? Robotics seems like the obvious choice, you could build him something? That isn’t enough. Horses...? A robot... horse? Yeah, yes, okay, you can do that, that’d be— 

Your phone pings again. 

— — turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] — —  


TG: so  
TG: whats the plan  
TT: For?   
TG: damn dude  
TG: you open up to a guy about how his alternate timeline biological predecessor was a fuckhead and its like he doesnt even know wanna talk to you anymore  
TG: and here i thought we were bros  
TT: On all levels except talking about Equius we’re the tightest of bros.  
TG: man thats fucked up  
TG: wont even talk to your brother  
TG: a guy who is unironically dating an alien  
TG: about the weird alien you wanna date  
TG: were not so different you and i  
TG: ive got my xeno boyfriend  
TG: youve got repressed feelings for a dude whose entire personality is repression  
TG: whats not to talk about  
TG: .....  
TG: you muted me didnt you  


— — timaeusTestified  [TT] is now an idle chum! — —  


TG: aw shit  
TG: if i didnt know any better id think you already have some blue runnin through those veins  
TG: what with how youre  
TG: icing me out   


— — timaeusTestified  [TT] blocked turntechGodhead [TG] — —

———— 

You really do end up making him a robot horse. It’s a 1:9 scale little thing, and you hadn’t bothered sewing it a skin but you think it looks pretty sick as just exposed metal, so you don’t sweat it all that much. When you press the button it plays a little tune and trots in a circle, and it throws its head before settling again after the loop. The AI could seriously be a lot more robust but, well. You aren’t keen on accidentally enslaving another living thing in a machine, equine or not. 

The party is, like every event you’ve attended lately, the hideous ectobiological offspring of every troll and human custom your social circle could recall. The trolls who could cook and cared enough to did their best to accommodate what little humans are actually here—from the looks of it, all of you made it, but that’s still an 8:12 split—and have normal shit set out too, but nachos don’t exactly get _more_ appetizing when they’re laid out next to ground up mealworm like it ain’t no thing. For every time someone’s mentioned a grubloaf around you, you hadn’t actually been prepared to see one in person. When you walk in you’re greeted with music you’re sure in an Alternian-language cover of something, and you scan the room for . You finally land on Equius, across the room making small talk, and start toward him before he can— 

“Dirk!” 

You’re wrangled off course by an arm around your shoulders, and for once it takes real effort not to break into a disappointed grimace when you register who it is. That’d be mean, and you’re still trying your best to be not that lately. 

“Kicking Christ, I almost thought I’d be alone this whole time! Not that the company’s bad, it’s just—well, Jane‘s a bit tied up at the moment, and it’d be rather hard to break into a group at this stage in the game, eh? Everyone’s already friends and whatnot.” Jake shoots you a grin. “Either way, though, it’s all settled now that you’re here. Always nice to be around good friends.” 

It’s a concerted effort not to vocalize that you _don’t particularly want, nor know how, to be good friends with him right now._ Possibly ever. You settle for pressing your mouth into an even thinner line and flashstepping out from under his arm. 

You’re just about to give him some bullshit excuse when you walk backwards into Dave, who somehow made it to your side in the time it took him to notice your arrival. He gives you a cursory “sweet, you made it,” loud enough for Jake to hear, and you’re both off. Not five minutes out the gate and you’ve already experienced awkward interaction number one. Great start, Dirk. 

Still—if there was ever a chance to make up for it, it’d be here and now. Dave is making some snide comment about your lack of people skills and steering you toward where he’d been when you got here, in a circle with Karkat and Equius. 

Equius who, to your delight, is wearing a homemade party hat between his horns. 

“Shit, if I’d known we were dressin’ up I’d have worn my good jeans.” The ever-present sweat on his brow get a refresher, and he’s about to say something when Nepeta cuts in. You have absolutely no clue when she got within earshot. 

“I made it myself! Jade said it was Earth tradition, but I just think it looks purrety. She lent me some of fur good glitter,” and then she all but climbs up Equius’ side to poke the tip of the hat. A layer of green sparkle settles down into his hair, and he mutters something about _manners, Nepeta,_ to which she paps him on the mouth and drops back to the floor. Her slitted eyes are retrained on you. “So, Dirk... don’t mew have something fur Equius?” 

You blink. That wasn’t even a particularly clever segue, she just jammed it right up in there. Dave is snickering from his spot next to you, and you pointedly ignore it as your gift drops out of your sylladex and into your hand. 

Honestly, this is the nicest you’ve ever wrapped a gift. It’s a sincerely ironic gesture, or at least what you’re calling the fact that you couldn’t make yourself wrap it any less pristinely. The box is about as wide as both your palms, and when you hold it out to Equius he takes it like it’s made of fire. 

“It’s not much, just, uh. Something I threw together. Figured you could appreciate the craftsmanship better than anyone.” That wording seems to make Equius even more nervous. You can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. 

“I... had not been expecting a gift,” he starts, carefully moving toward an end table to set the package on. You follow, wanting to see his reaction firsthand, and thankfully the rest of your group is content to resume their talking about whatever. Equius hunkers down and starts peeling wrapping paper with the precision of a neurosurgeon. You wait, watching as he lifts the lid and then shakily sets your ponybot on the table. 

You’re about to point out the button when he presses it, and you get the distinct pleasure of watching his face fucking light up as the stupid tinny jingle plays and your horse son dances around in a circle. 

Equius tips his head up and you register that this is the first time you’ve seen him really smile. His teeth are jagged and broken, punctuated by gaps of emptiness and the occasional misplaced fang, and you are convinced that he’s the prettiest motherfucker on the planet. Sure, the horse bonding might be weighing on your ruling a little, but he’s just—all this height and bulk and alien danger wrapped around the personality of a wilted flower, and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to break down and kiss him right now. 

The acute sense that Nepeta is staring at the back of your head certainly helps you rein it in. 

“Dirk, I truly do not know how to thank you. This is... beyond thoughtful, this is a work of art, I am not entirely sure I—“ 

You stop that train of thought with the offer of a fistbump, to which he holds his own up and waits for you to make contact because he’s under the impression that he’ll shatter your wrist if he does it. 

“No sweat, man. You deserved something good.” 

———— 

The rest of the night goes off without a hitch, if you’re allowed to make judgement calls. Jane eventually pokes her head out from around a corner and calls everyone to eat, and for the first time in a little too long you’re surrounded by people you know and actually like. Plus, Equius mostly sticks by you the whole time, so it’s not like you could complain anyway. 

By the time everyone filters out it’s around midnight, and you make it home in time to collapse into bed and narrowly avoid braining yourself on the tip of your shades. You’re a glorious centimeter from sleep when your phone pings. You have half a mind to chuck it across the room and leave whoever’s bothering you for the morning but, well. 

— — centaursTesticle [CT] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] — —  


CT: D --> I e%pect that this does not come off as presumptuous, considering the time of night, but  
CT: D --> Would you perhaps consider joining me on a project  
CT: D --> Your machine work is e%quisite, and it would be an honor to work at your side   



	2. equius: reap the rewards of being pitied

You had, for the longest time, believed yourself to be incapable of real pity. Concupiscence, fine, but never _pity,_ not in the real way. Not where it counts. 

Your dear moirail, on the other hand, thought and still thinks that you are the stupidest troll to ever grace society. Nepeta is firm in her belief that anyone can pity, humans included, and has been since the moment you two met. 

At the moment, you admit that she may be onto something. 

Nepeta had already been expecting Dirk to act, had been trying to convince you of this for the better part of a perigree, but your wriggling day was coming up and you’d hoped that would at least draw her attention away from meddling in your other quadrants. 

It took all of five minutes after the last guest had left for her to pounce, and another five to quiet her down enough that you could understand her babble of “he did it, I knew he’d do something good, Equihiss you have to tell him!” You have never been particularly good at resisting her demands. 

Even so, messaging Dirk at such an odd hour felt more daring than you were capable of. You managed to do it anyway and, well. 

This is the second day in a row that Dirk has been in your garage. 

You’d drawn up the schematics ages ago, so far back that you’d nearly forgotten the plans altogether, but you can’t pretend they aren’t coming in handy now. 

You and Dirk have spent time together in the past, but despite it being fairly private it was always at larger gatherings. This—working in such close quarters, on the same machine—was something else entirely. It doesn’t come as a surprise to you that you enjoy his company, he’s perfectly smart and capable of conversation, but you hadn’t quite expected to want it so badly. 

By the end of the third day you find yourself waiting for him to come back the moment he leaves. The sense of longing is new. You aren’t entirely sure how to feel about it, aside from knowing that it’s his fault. 

Dirk treats you as an equal, something that becomes clearer as time goes on. When you work it’s simultaneously, both of you taking on some piece of the final build, and he asks your opinion on thinks he’s made as often as he comes around and comments on your work. You are beginning to suspect he might just like being nearby—you’d initially been working at seperate ends of your desk, and he’s since dragged a chair across from you. He isn’t afraid of your strength, or to touch you. 

On more than one occasion, he’s joked about your temperature being a comfort, and every single time it’s flustered you enough that you’ve broken tools. 

Something has to give. Your supply of backup wrenches is nearly run dry. 

———— 

By the time you’re finished, Dirk has taken to calling it Maplehoof. You are convinced you’ve never been this proud of a robot. A true-to-size replica hoofbeast, fully articulated and capable of withstanding over 70,000 newtons of force. 

And, at Dirk’s insistence, able to play a song and dance around. 

“S’a mighty fine piece of machinery,” he says, suddenly much closer to your side than you’d noted before. The flashstepping still takes you by surprise. 

“It’s a masterpiece,” you agree. “Thank you for assi—for collaborating with me.” 

Dirk tips his head toward you, and you can pick out the barest hint of a smile on his face. Your mind goes into overdrive before you can stop it. 

“Would you like to come inside?” 

He looks taken by surprise, and you count it as a win. In the weeks you’ve been working, he’s only entered your actual block once, but you’re loathe to let him leave so soon today, not when you aren’t sure when you’ll see him next. 

Dirk nods, and you release a breath you hadn’t realize you’d been holding. 

———— 

Your plan had been to come up with a plan on your way in, but now that he’s here you’re finding it difficult to speak. He takes notice almost immediately. 

“Hey, man, if I’m overstayin’ my welcome here I can always—“ 

“No! No, of course not, I just don’t want to risk making you uncomfortable.” He seems to take personal offense to this, if the way his mouth presses thin is any indication. 

“C’mon, man, we’ve gotta be friends by now. Say whatever it is you wanna say.” 

Oh, fiddlesticks. You might as well. 

“I am... lucky. To have met you.” Your jaw clenches so forcefully that you’re concerned you may have done your teeth more damage. Still, you need to continue. “It is nice to have someone to talk to who isn’t—ahem. Well. Someone who isn’t obligated to do so.” 

You chance a look upward. Dirk’s façade has broken just enough that he’s tipped his head, seemingly pleased, and he looks taken aback. 

There are moments when you looks at the boy before you and fear you may truly lose your composure. This prince who strains himself for virtue, who sits so noble and so, so lonely. You watch as his eyes betray the stoic line of his mouth over the rim of his pointed shades, as your pusher threatens to overflow at the crinkle of a smile. You suddenly believe in every delicate, looping prose about pity your moirail has read to you. 

He must notice you staring, fiddlesticks, that was horribly rude of you—you draw back, and his hand cages atop yours, lowblood warm and stopping you in your tracks. 

There is a brief moment of nothing, both of you frozen, and then Dirk moves and his hands are in your hair. He kisses you and oh, _oh,_ you finally understand. A blunt nail traces the point of your ear, and your lip is caught between teeth not meant to tear flesh, and why else would humans evolve to be so defenseless if not for such tenderness, for such pity. 

You hesitate, hands floating just above Dirk’s ribcage, until he pulls away to look at you with his cheeks glowing in the soft light of your block. Carefully, you bring a hand up, doing your best to ignore the tremor in your palm as you slide your wrecked shades off of your face and captchalogue them. Despite the dim, your eyes are sensitive, adjusting slowly to watch as Dirk’s usual mask wavers into contentment. 

The expression doesn’t fall away like you expect it to. Instead, he slips his own glasses off, leaning away to set them down on the arm of your loungeplank. 

This is the first time you’ve seen his face bare. 

Now you really are staring, enhanced vision making it easy to admire the openness. He’s so... _alien._ You had been expecting something less jarring than the way his eyes pierce you, the soft slope of his cheekbones and the subtle fullness of his face. You are not naïve enough to take any of this as a sign of weakness—memories of Dirk decimating enemies twice his size without so much as a glance still feel fresh in your mind. The thought excites a trill from deep in your chest, and you’re too caught off guard to tamp it down. You don’t think he heard it, the frequency may be just out of his reach, but your face must betray what you’re thinking because he nudges you back onto your plank and climbs straight into your lap. 

His hands push at your shoulders until you concede and sit back, and he sits triumphant while you revel in the act of someone commanding you physically. You are a simple troll. 

Dirk is, unsurprisingly, the first to break the silence. 

“I feel the same, y’know. I like havin’ you around.” Dirk shifts, sitting astride your thighs like it’s nothing. You can feel just how warm he is even through two layers of fabric. “S’it forward to assume this is what you had planned when you invited me over?” 

The lilt in his voice cannot be good for you, and you’re suddenly extremely thankful that humans have such base-level hearing. 

“I— goodness, no, that would have been... incredibly improper of me, not to mention presumptuous,” Dirk seems disappointed with that answer, somehow. He begins to draw away and you hold your hands still behind his back, letting him bump them rather than you touch him. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. “I... cannot pretend I wasn’t hoping it would go this way.” 

That seems to settle his nerves, and he flashes a grin, perfectly flat teeth on full display. You try to mirror the expression and promptly duck your head when you recall the state of your mouth. 

“It’s... quite late, you know.” There’s the eyebrow again, except now you can see the questioning up close and it does nothing to calm the pounding of your pusher. “You are welcome to stay the night.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha can u tell i love equius zahhak more than anything bc i love equius zahhak more than anything

**Author's Note:**

> nepeta leijon helping her giant idiot moirail navigate interpersonal relationships.
> 
> nepeta liaison.


End file.
